Chapter
Eleven

As soon as he stepped outside, Tony began to second-guess himself. He’d talked to Kate about facing the truth, and then he’d been dishonest. Hadn’t told her about the new evidence. He wanted Kate to trust him, but he was trained to obey orders. In this situation, he could either risk his relationship with Kate or he could risk his job. There had never been a question of his loyalties—until now. His only option was to go back to Batterson. Get permission to tell Kate what was really going on. He decided he had no other choice. He’d convince Batterson that she shouldn’t be left in the dark. Then he’d talk to Kate. If he handled it right, maybe she’d never know he’d kept something from her.

Ever since Batterson had told him about Malcolm Bodine, Tony just couldn’t accept the idea that Kate’s identification had been wrong. He believed she really had seen Gerard that night. That it was Gerard who killed Kelly and attacked Kate. It wasn’t that it was impossible for a victim to become confused about an attacker, but in this case, he trusted Kate more than the supposed facts that cast doubt on her eyewitness account.

Tony drove back to the resort. When he pulled up in front of the cabin, he got out, intending to go inside. But the lure of the lake and the sight of the sun sinking down below the horizon, the sky streaked with reddish hues, drew him out onto the long dock that stretched out over the water. Tiny lights along the sides of the dock helped him see where he was going.

As he walked, he breathed in everything. The water lapping against the dock, the sweet evening air whispering lightly against his cheek, the cacophony of birdsong and bullfrogs and all the other night sounds that surrounded him. He loved all of it, and being here brought a sense of rest to his troubled soul.

As he stood at the end of the dock, Tony felt as if God was all around him. He stared out into the darkness, the lake like black ink, and he prayed. He hadn’t meant to leave God behind—he’d just allowed his job to become . . . everything.

“I’m sorry, God,” he said quietly. “My mom’s right. I need You more than I need anything else. If You’ll give me another chance, I’ll do better. Put You first. And if You could help me with Kate, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t know what to do.” He sighed into the night. “I lost Jeremy. I don’t want to lose her.”

It was only at the last minute that he heard the boards on the dock squeak behind him. Before he had a chance to turn around, someone put an arm around his neck. Then there was a quick sting—like a bee’s.

And everything went black.

“Mr. DeLuca? Mr. DeLuca, are you all right?”

Tony forced his eyes open. They felt as if they’d been sealed with wet sand. His head hurt so badly he could barely move it. As he looked around him, he realized he was still on the dock, but the sun was coming up. Could it really be morning? How long had he been lying here? He struggled to sit up. Bobby, the guy from the office, put his arm around Tony to support him.

“One of our fishermen came down here a little while ago and found you. He ran and got me. We’ve called the doctor.”

“No . . . I’m all right. I . . .” Actually, the world swam around him, making it look as if he was sitting at the bottom of the lake instead of on the dock. “I . . . I think something stung me.”

“Are you allergic to anything?” Bobby asked. “Bees? Wasps?”

Tony shook his head. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Do you have heart problems? Any kind of physical disability that might cause you to faint?”

“No. I passed my last physical with flying colors.” Tony tried to get to his feet, but he immediately slumped back down. He put his hand up to his neck. Sure enough, it was sore. He moved his head toward Bobby. “Can you see anything here?” he asked, pointing to the spot that hurt.

“Sorry. Not in this light.”

Once again, Tony attempted to get to his feet. With Bobby’s help, he succeeded this time but felt wobbly and out of control. “Could you help me back to my room?” he asked. His tongue seemed too big for his mouth. What had happened? Was this really caused by some kind of insect, or had he been attacked by something more . . . human? Suddenly he remembered someone grabbing him right before he felt the sting.

“Don’t you think you should wait for the doctor?” Bobby said. “Maybe we shouldn’t move you.”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t have any kind of spinal injury. This is something different. Please, I need to get to my room.”

A man Tony didn’t know stepped out of the shadows. Tony hadn’t noticed him before. He looked to be in his twenties, dressed in old jeans, thick boots, a plaid shirt, and a khaki vest. His hat was decorated with different lures. Must be the fisherman who’d discovered him.

“I’ll help,” he said. The man and Bobby got on each side to support Tony so he could get down the dock and back to his cabin. Although his legs felt like overcooked spaghetti, little by little he began to gain control of his gait. By the time they reached his door, he was ready to try it on his own.

“Thanks, guys,” he said, disengaging himself from his helpers. “I’m feeling a lot stronger.” He studied Bobby and the other man. Were they really there to help him, or could they have had something to do with what had happened? Was he in danger even now?

“The doctor will be here soon,” Bobby said. “Please let him check you over.”

“Okay. Just send him here when he arrives.” The two men seemed to be truly concerned about him. If they’d wanted to hurt him, they could have done it anytime. They appeared to be harmless. “Thank you. Both of you. I really appreciate it.” He held out his hand to the man with the fishing hat. “I don’t even know your name.”

The man smiled. “I’m Steven. Hope you get to feeling better.” He shook Tony’s hand and then addressed Bobby. “I’ll be out for a while. Probably have the boat back before noon.”

Bobby nodded at him, and the man walked away.

Then Tony shook Bobby’s hand. “Thanks. Really. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Not a problem. Just hope you’ll be okay. If you need anything, just call me.”

“I will, but I think I can take it from here.”

As Bobby walked away, headed toward the office, Tony waited by the door to his cabin. When the office door closed, Tony walked a few feet away, hoping he could get a good signal on his phone. He dialed Kate’s number. Thankfully, she answered after only a couple rings.

“Sorry to be calling so early,” he said. “Just checking up on you. Everything okay?”

There was silence for a moment, then Kate said, “Well, except that you woke me up, everything’s fine.”

“I thought you had a restaurant to run. Figured you’d be up at the crack of dawn.”

A buzzer sounded in the background. “Good timing. There’s my alarm. Too bad I set it. I had no idea you’d be taking its place this morning.”

“Funny.” Tony could feel himself swaying a bit. He needed to sit down. “Hey, why don’t you wait for me? Let me drive you to the café?” He felt so out of control he didn’t wait for a response. “Gotta go,” he said thickly, before hanging up. He slowly made his way back to the cabin, everything around him rolling and making his stomach turn over. When he reached the porch, he grabbed the wooden railing, trying to steady himself. Once the world around him stopped moving on its own, he looked up at the sky. Although it was still early, it seemed unusually dark. Sure enough, black clouds gathered over Shelter Cove. Storm clouds.

Tony unlocked the door to his cabin and went inside. He immediately grabbed his suitcase and dug around for some pain reliever. He always kept some strong stuff with him because of occasional severe headaches. He had one now that was awful, but he suspected it was because of whatever he’d been dosed with. He quickly swallowed several pills. “Not the best answer to prayer I’ve ever had, God,” he said softly. If his head didn’t hurt so much, maybe he would have found the situation a little funny. Ask God for help and you get coldcocked. But why would someone want to drug him? He’d just picked up his phone to call Batterson when he heard a knock on his door.

Stifling an urge to curse, Tony yanked it open. An older man stood there, a black medical bag in his hand.

“Mr. DeLuca? I’m Doc Henderson. Bobby called to say you were sick. Maybe injured?”

Tony pulled open the door. “Wow, a doctor who still does house calls. I’m in a hurry, but I do need to talk to you.”

The doctor came into the room and put his bag on the bed. “Can you tell me what happened? And how you’re feeling now?”

“I’m not sure what happened. How do I feel? Like I’m standing still and you’re doing the twist.”

The doctor stared at him. “Is there something I should know?”

Tony sat down on the bed, next to the doctor’s bag. “Like what?”

“Like what your relationship with Emily is. I doubt you’re her cousin. Does your being here have anything to do with her being in witness protection?”

When Tony started to protest, the doctor shook his head. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know a little bit. After she got here, she . . . hurt herself. I stitched her up. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she is in the protection program.” He held up his hand like a traffic cop directing cars. “Don’t tell her I shared this with you. You should know, though, that she was in bad shape for a while. She’s a lot better now, but I keep an eye on her.” He pinned Tony with a hard stare. “I’ll do anything I can to help her, and I won’t tell anyone about her . . . or you. You can trust me. Now tell me what really happened.”

Tony hesitated a moment but finally decided to come clean. Maybe it was because the room was still spinning, but he didn’t feel like playing games with the doctor. He took out his wallet and showed the doctor his I.D. card. “Doc, I’m a deputy U.S. Marshal on assignment. I expect you to keep that information to yourself.”

Doc Henderson’s eyebrows shot up. “Is the town in any danger?”

Tony put his wallet back in his jacket. “No, I don’t believe so. I’m here to transport Emily. As I said, it’s very important you don’t share this with anyone. I’m trying to keep her safe. Like you.”

The doctor, who reminded Tony of a picture he’d seen of Albert Einstein, nodded. “I understand.”

Although he’d just met the man, Tony’s gut told him the doctor was on the level. “Someone else was on the dock last night. They came up behind me. I think they injected me with something.” Tony turned his head so the doctor could see his neck. He pointed to the sore spot. “Right here.”

Doc Henderson got a small flashlight out of his bag and looked closely at the spot Tony indicated. “Yep,” he said softly. “That’s an injection site.”

“What kind of drug would knock someone out for about eight hours and leave them feeling fuzzy and weak? Oh, and give them a really bad headache?”

“Could be several things. Propofol would do it. It has a short onset of action, about forty seconds. Of course it could be Haldol or one of the benzodiazepines.”

“I think the guy put his arm around my neck first. Cut off my air. I probably passed out from that and then the drug kicked in.”

“That’s entirely possible.”

“Any permanent damage with the drugs you mentioned?”

The doctor shook his head. “No. But if someone injected you with something like that, you need to be careful. Next time the results could be quite different. Too much of that stuff can kill you.”

“Trust me, Doc. I won’t give him another chance.” Tony grabbed his checkbook from his suitcase. “What do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Doc Henderson said, closing his medical bag. “I didn’t do anything. Just watch yourself.” He seemed to study Tony for a moment. “Do you need something for your headache?”

“Thanks, I took something. I’m already feeling better.”

He took the doctor’s arm and guided him to the door. He needed to contact Batterson right away. And even though Kate seemed to be okay, he wanted to get over to her place as soon as possible. He intended to stick close to her today. Thankfully, his mind was beginning to clear and he was starting to feel like his old self again. He was determined to find out who’d drugged him—and why.

After Henderson left, Tony grabbed his phone and found that Batterson had tried to call him several times. Then he noticed the light on the phone in his room flashing. Although he wanted to use the room phone since he felt a little drained, he worried about the line not being secure. Tony took his cell phone and left the room, walking toward the same spot where he’d called Kate from a few minutes earlier. He tapped Batterson’s number. His boss answered immediately.

“Where have you been?” he bellowed. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Tony briefly described his attack the night before and his visit with the doctor. “But I’m fine now, Chief. What’s going on?”

There was a brief silence from the other end of the line, and Tony’s stomach clenched. Something was wrong. Wrong in Shelter Cove—and wrong in St. Louis. He waited for Batterson’s next words. When he heard them, he wasn’t completely surprised.

“I got a phone call late last night,” Batterson said. “Alan Gerard has disappeared.”